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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/23911027">Of Chaos and Stone</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/Galanthor/pseuds/Galanthor'>Galanthor</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Original Work</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Action, Adventure, Chaos, Drama, Exploration, Fantasy, Humor, Intrigue, Knight, Knights - Freeform, Low Fantasy, Magic, Minor Character Death, Order, Original Fiction, Other, POV Third Person, POV Third Person Limited, Rebellion, Secrets, Swordfighting, Swordplay, War, stone - Freeform</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>In-Progress</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-04-29</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-04-29</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-02 19:28:48</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>3</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>7,876</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/23911027</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/Galanthor/pseuds/Galanthor</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>When William, a young squire in the service of Sir Dylas, gets his first taste of war, he learns that it isn't as glorious as people make it out to be. For the first time in his life, he is confronted with pain and death. Amidst the terror, he loses something so dear that his life is forever changed. Who is the enigmatic soldier that calls himself Oren and why does he offer help?<br/>Within an old ruin lies a strange gem with a mysterious origin, the key to a long-forgotten story. Not all want the truth to be uncovered through and thus the Squire finds himself hunted by a powerful foe, that strikes for the shadows.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. The calm</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p class="western">
  <span>By the sound of drums, William woke up. Drums meant danger for soldiers and any true warrior would jump up to their sound, but William was no real warrior yet. As such, it was very slowly that the young man's eyes opened, revealing their green shade. </span>
</p><p class="western">
  <span>Those opened eyes, however, barely revealed a thing. It was pitch black in the tent. The vast darkness surrounding him remembered William how he used to fear the dark as a child, but that was the past. </span>
</p><p class="western">
  <span>Here and now he only feared, that he might stumble over his mail, tumble out of the tent and end up lying naked in the mud in front of the whole Legion. Maybe that was a strange thing to fear, but then again, he was a strange squire. William still was not sure why Sir Dylas chose him to take a fighting role for the battle. He was no Knight, hell he wasn't even old enough to become one yet and this way he wouldn't even be able to fulfil his duties to assist his mentor. </span>
</p><p class="western">
  <span>Actually swinging a weapon in combat would be a lot different from staying at the sidelines and tending to equipment. William would have the chance to make a real difference, maybe he even would return home a hero!</span>
</p><p class="western">
  <span>Rattling metal brought Williams attention back to the real world before he could fully place himself in a fairy-tale. He may not have been aware of the significance of drums, but as a squire he knew one thing full well: The sound of metal meant work.</span>
</p><p class="western">
  <span>Quick as he could he threw on his chainmail in order to look at least partially preventable. His green eyes searched the tent for the thing that had been the least important part of his uniform for his whole training, yet William never went without it. William took the sheathed sword, he had never been allowed to use it and still he was rarely seen without.</span>
</p><p class="western">
  <span>It was special. </span>
</p><p class="western">
  <span>While his chainmail seemed deformed and barely better than the foot soldier's armours, the sword looked remarkable. It was old, one could see that, but still it had an aura of greatness attached to it and while surely duller than when it was made the metal still shone bright and the craftsmanship was even better than that of most modern blades.</span>
</p><p class="western">
  <span>Most important though: Dylas gave it to him.</span>
</p><p class="western">
  <span>Striding out of the camp he saw a slender person in black robes, the guy nodded at him before picking up his scythe. A strange guy...had to be one from the new soldier. Quite sure, that one was recruited straight from a farm. That would at least explain the curious choice of weapon. Wait...black robes and a scythe? Will looked back at the person. He saw a normal soldier. His mind played tricks on him.</span>
</p><p class="western">
  <span>The rattling of metal was louder here. People were rushing past him on all sides. He got nearer to the source of all that hectic.</span>
</p><p class="western">
  <span>Sir Dylas' voice wasn't hard to spot. He was speaking to the troops...or...to what he called troops. Most of them seemed even more surprised than William and few wore their armour correctly. It made Will wonder how fast an attacker could make it fall from their body.</span>
</p><p class="western">
  <span>One might think that wearing the armour incorrectly would make them look more unready, truth is...it couldn't worsen their appearance too much. Even if a soldier was handsome - which there were very few of - the armours themselves were enough to correct that. </span>
</p><p class="western">
  <span>Every piece of armour they got came from the armoury and there wasn't even enough for everyone. The best armours were given to the more deserved Soldiers, regular troops were lucky to get any armour at all. The ones they got were old, that most of them had several scraps and bulges. The gambesons looked better, as they were actually quite new, but no one wanted to just have some pieces of cloth between them and a blade. William was actually lucky to get his chainmail. </span>
</p><p class="western">
  <span>The only one not looking like a shabby mongrel was Sir Dylas himself. Blond hair at shoulder's length and in heavy plate mail, he stood in front of all those unmotivated farmhands and spoke to them as if they were Niviana's finest Champions. Even thought they were the only ones available for such a low priority mission.</span>
</p><p class="western">
  <span>It was a wonder Dylas himself even took a mission like this. Leading such a platoon into battle was below Sir Dylas. So much in fact, that there was only one valid reason why they would stand here: The only reason Dylas took the assignment was because this battle was easy enough to test William.</span>
</p><p class="western">
  <span>As William sprinted closer the reflections on the Knights Armour got blinding. The Squire was used to Sir Dylas armour sitting perfectly, was shining brighter than the sun. It was no surprise for him, still annoying, though.</span>
</p><p class="western">
  <span>What however surprised William was to see, that there was not even the smallest hint of tiredness in Dylas' Blue eyes, neither was there surprise. It was as if he just waited for all that to happen. Then again...he made sure the camp was fortified, so maybe he did? William never understood the way Dylas thought.</span>
</p><p class="western">
  <span>"What happened?" William asked between his own panting.</span>
</p><p class="western">
  <span>"They tried to assault us, but I guess the fortifications discouraged them from murdering all of us in our sleep. Instead they chose to wait for us in the nearby woods, while provoking us with scouts and drums...horrible tactic", Dylas explained sounding awfully bored. His eyes searched the distance for any kind of distraction. This must have been like matching wits against a child for the master tactician.</span>
</p><p class="western">
  <span>William did not ask him how he knew all those Details. He never got a satisfactory answer on that kind of questions. Dylas hated people knowing his card, even close allies. It was fine. There was a more pressing matter on the squire's mind anyways: </span>
</p><p class="western">
  <span>"Why is it terrible? Seems like an ideal place for them to fight."</span>
</p><p class="western">
  <span>"Do you remember our mission, young squire?" Dylas asked in a piercing tone. </span>
</p><p class="western">
  <span>"Of course, we should find the small Edanian unit and defeat them before..." Will stopped himself. There was more to this question...Dylas wanted him to realize something. "...we don't have to search anymore, right?”</span>
</p><p class="western">
  <span>"Yes, they could have had us searching for them for days, laying traps and ambushes. This is much less dangerous for us. There's a much more subtle flaw to their plans, though. They didn't realize that we have the best troops for this task we could wish for..." Dylas explained with a triumphant grin.</span>
</p><p class="western">
  <span>William let his gaze wonder over the recruits Dylas had spoken to. One seemed to have fallen asleep, while another had his finger firmly seated in his ear, searching...will don't even want to know what. Puzzled, he looked back to Dylas and asked:</span>
</p><p class="western">
  <span>"...those are the best? They look like farmers and goat herders..."</span>
</p><p class="western">
  <span>"...also hunters and lumberjacks", Dylas interrupted smiling brightly, "We recruited all of them from this area...believe me, nobody knows those woods better than them. On top of that...forests have a major disadvantage..."</span>
</p><p class="western">
  <span>It struck Will like a hammer blow: Dylas was right. They could end this all in just one assault, thanks to the enemies bad planning. Slowly he mused:</span>
</p><p class="western">
  <span>"So your plan is..."</span>
</p><p class="western">
  <span>"...precisely." Dylas nodded, with a hint of pride in his smile. William was a bright student but there was joy to be had in a successful lesson.</span>
</p><p class="western">
  <span>"The King won't be pleased...Fergus' Forest belongs to him after all", William began, grinding his teeth at the much thought.</span>
</p><p class="western">
  <span>"Is he ever pleased? He's a king", Dylas shrugged it off, "Anyways...I need you to cut off their escape route."</span>
</p><p class="western">
  <span>"Me? I'm a squire...no commander. I know how to put on armour, not how to lead battalion..." Will protested</span>
</p><p class="western">
  <span>"...yet", Dylas added to William's sentence, "You'll be fine, try not to get snatched away by the small people." </span>
</p><p class="western">
  <span>Dylas grinned. It was the kind of joke only he could come up with: Small people were ancient superstition, barely anyone knew about them. William...read about them...one sentence in an old fairy-tale: Magical creatures too small and clever to be found by humans...or something like that. Still, the joke made it clear that he wouldn't argue about this.</span>
</p><p class="western">
  <span>"I've got a bad feeling about this", William mumbled.</span>
</p><p class="western">
  <span>"Just remember what I taught you. Everything else will come naturally", Dylas reminded, "You...still remember what I made you say before every practice, right?"</span>
</p><p class="western">
  <span>Oh, he did. The problem was more that he didn't get its meaning at all. He never did, but the knight seemed contempt with William just repeating it and so he did:</span>
</p><p class="western">
  <span>"Dance like wind's soft blow,</span>
</p><p class="western">
  <span>steady as stone, never tire,</span>
</p><p class="western">
  <span>move like the water flow</span>
</p><p class="western">
  <span>and in battle burn like fire."</span>
</p><p class="western">
  <span>Dylas repeated it louder than Will and for a moment it seemed like he was about to be chastised for not speaking them loud and clearly enough, but Dylas simply met his eyes until Will nodded. Dylas smiled.</span>
</p><p class="western">
  <span>Will was a good boy and Dylas knew that. Maybe after this battle, he'd get drunk and pay a whore for the boy. The knight heard that some cultures do that to introduce a boy into manhood. Sadly he never found said culture, but he still liked the idea.</span>
</p><p class="western">
  <span>To send the boy out to be in the heat of the battle alone, made Dylas feel kind of guilty...after all Will was just...14? Has it really been that long? While being somewhere in his 40s, Dylas felt like an old man now as he remembered the child, William once was. Doing this was like seeing your son shaving the first time. The Knight couldn't wish for a better son, even though he wasn't really his father and probably would make for a piss-poor one.</span>
</p><p class="western">
  <span>With Will gone, it was time to focus on the matter at hand again. Dylas called for two men: Ryan and Shawn. Both were lean short men and the best riders Dylas had seen in a long time. Those two had a lot in common, their parents for one thing. When Ryan joined the army, Shawn did as well, because he wanted to protect his brother. Both were a bit reckless, but they were the best for this job.</span>
</p><p class="western">
  <span>"...I talked you two through what you have to do before. You should not take any soldiers with you, but you are free to do so. However: William will need some time to position his troops on the other side."</span>
</p><p class="western">
  <span>"Yes, Sir", the brothers answered perfectly synchronous. </span>
</p><p class="western">
  <span>Dylas sometimes wondered if they did that to mock him, but then smiled, sometimes even laughed if he forgot where he was. He liked those two.</span>
</p><p class="western">
  <span>The orders were given, time for a breather...in theory, but it was good to have some additional time, especially if Williams life was on the line. With that thought in mind, Dylas rued his decision to send him off.</span>
</p><p class="western">
  <span>The squire on the other hand, learned that getting around the woods was easy, leading a pack of soldiers around them less so. While Dylas was a good a teacher and William did well when it came to fighting he was really clueless about leading. However it seems that the men organized themselves after the first problems arose. More precisely one of them did: a Lumberjack called Oren. </span>
</p><p class="western">
  <span>In only the brief time that they walked together William started to like Oren...it was hard not to like that man. The best way to describe Oren was an oak, which was a convenient metaphor seeing that he was a woodcutter. While being big in every meaning of that word and wearing scars all over his face, he had a smile so friendly that it could make one overlook those axes he carried. He was cleanly shaven and smelled like a big tree.</span>
</p><p class="western">
  <span>When Oren finally got everyone organized, Will asked the obvious thing:</span>
</p><p class="western">
  <span>"I'm pretty bad as a leader, am I not?"</span>
</p><p class="western">
  <span>"You suck at it." Oren answered so honestly that William gasped and could not hide the guilt in his face, but Oren didn't seem to see it. "...you ought to suck though...not really your fault."</span>
</p><p class="western">
  <span>That was perhaps the most genuine answer William heard in his life. Nobody at court would ever have put it that bluntly. As soon as Will found his speech again, he asked:</span>
</p><p class="western">
  <span>"What do you mean?"</span>
</p><p class="western">
  <span>"...what I said", Oren answered and for a second it seemed like that would be all he said, but then he sighed and looked at William. One look into this boy's eyes was enough to tell him that he wouldn't be able to work his way around an explanation. "You are what? 16? Those are grown-up men and you expect them to listen to a child?"</span>
</p><p class="western">
  <span>"14", William whispered.</span>
</p><p class="western">
  <span>"Huh?"</span>
</p><p class="western">
  <span>"I'm only 14 years old, not 16."</span>
</p><p class="western">
  <span>A raised eyebrow and a look of disbelieve were Oren's first reaction, but then he looked at William again, scratched his non-existent beard and mumbled with a confused look: </span>
</p><p class="western">
  <span>"And here I thought Dylas...I mean...that our general was a cautious man. I thought that normally squires weren't even supposed to have a real blade at that age."</span>
</p><p class="western">
  <span>"Normally."</span>
</p><p class="western">
  <span>William tried his best to hide a proud grin. If he did well in this battle he was promised a chance at knighthood, would make him the youngest knight in history.</span>
</p><p class="western">
  <span>Oren laughed heartily at the short response. With his deep voice it sounded like a landslide. </span>
</p><p class="western">
  <span>"You must fight like a warthog then."</span>
</p><p class="western">
  <span>"I'll fight like anything whatever brings us the victory." </span>
</p><p class="western">
  <span>William tried to sound tough with this, but he was no actor and it was written all over his face that he was worried. How far would he even be able to contribute? If he couldn't even hold his own men in line, how should he return a hero? Of course Oren saw it, but he just laughed and gave his shoulder a pat.</span>
</p><p class="western">
  <span>"You got guts boy, I like that. Don't worry, I got your back."</span>
</p><p class="western">
  <span>The rest of the way turned into a lecture about the woods, as they went along the forest's border Oren could show him all kinds of useful herbs, most of them to treat wounds, some as foods and others...well he said that William wouldn't need them until he's older.</span>
</p><p class="western">
  <span>Eventually they reached the other side and William tried making a better figure when he instructed the men to take formation this time. After having seen Oren and heard what he thought about his leadership skills he decided to use a harsher tone, he had to show he was every bit as tough as them.</span>
</p><p class="western">
  <span>"I want crossbowmen over there and there..." He made a vague gesture towards the darker parts of the woods. "The rest of you hide behind trees or in bushes. If anyone gives away our presence I'll rip his tongue out and beat him death with it."</span>
</p><p class="western">
  <span>This time everyone listened to William, there was a certain kind of sharpness in his voice that made clear that this was no idle thread. He would probably do worse. Well executed ambushes could save lives and he was not willing to lose anyone.</span>
</p><p class="western">
  <span>As soon as everyone took positions William relaxed a little and let his gaze wander skywards. It couldn't be much longer until he would see the...</span>
</p><p class="western">
  <span>"...Smoke!" A voice yelled. Dylas was too deep in a game of Trebbin to tell whose voice it was and at first he couldn't even believe it. There wasn't supposed to be any smoke yet. He ordered them to wait, not to ignite the fire right away.</span>
</p><p class="western">
  <span>Sure if a regular battalion was led to the other side this time might be enough, but William had no experience and those men weren't exactly elites. Well nothing to be done about it and Dylas was about to lose this game anyways. So he got up and took a deep breath, he didn't need to rally the troops. The troops rallied themselves. He needed to calm down in order to lead them into battle effectively, though. He just had to hope William was as much of a natural as he hoped. Else the fight is going to get nasty.</span>
</p><p class="western">
  <span>Picking up his sword and shield and he rushed towards the wood. This not only caused the soldiers to follow him, but the higher-ranking ones to bark the right orders as well. Soon all soldiers took a tight formation, causing Dylas to start the next phase of his plan hitting his blade against his shield. This resulted in a wave of bangs; every bang signalled another row to do the same until Dylas hit again and they began to synch. Like thunder the hits sounded through the forest and throughout.</span>
</p><p class="western">
  <span>Dylas wanted them to feel surrounded, to panic and run into Williams trap. For a moment he asked himself, if he didn't put too much faith in the boy, but then again it was too late to change tactics. Also...it was not the only thing that could easily go wrong. At that thought, Dylas bit his lip. What if it wouldn't work?</span>
</p><p class="western">
  <span>After a while, it became obvious that something was not right. No steps, no voices, not even a strange silence, just woods. There were neither Paths leading into... Oh no...William! Dylas sheathed his sword and threw away any armour of that he could put of fast enough: helm and gauntlets. Then he sprinted forwards.</span>
</p><p class="western">
  <span>"Soldiers! Get to the other side as fast as possible! Our troops are in danger! William's in danger!"</span>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. Storm</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p class="western">
  <span>The Banging and howling of Dylas soldiers reassured William, made him know the plan had worked this far. They just had to wait now. Will was sure the rest would go pretty smooth...</span>
</p><p class="western">
  <span>...till he heard crossbows cocking. At first he wanted to tell off his men, and then he realized that the sound originated too far away. As he turned around he saw the last few men climb out of well hidden trenches, the rest had already readied their weapons. A quick counting later William guessed that half of his troops would be killed by crossbows before the battle begins; most men surviving would surrender. So a direct approach was out of question. What else? He could gamble for some time. Maybe talking to their leader would...</span>
</p><p class="western">
  <span>"Give up", a voice said and a knight in black armour walked past his troops. Something about that voice seemed strange to William, as did the whole Person. He was not very big, but he still looked menacingly powerful.</span>
</p><p class="western">
  <span>William's attempts to get a look at his face were thwarted by the demon-shaped helmet. It was rather a mask with dark holes where the eyes were supposed to be. The whole armour was black, Will barely made out details.</span>
</p><p class="western">
  <span>"...your weapon." The voice got rougher. It was a command from someone that was used to have his orders carried out. His spike bearing arm rose, as he extended his hand to take his enemy's weapon.</span>
</p><p class="western">
  <span>William looked at his weapon for a while then at some critters fleeing from the forest. "What...happens to my men if we give up?" William didn't have to ask about himself...he was good as dead. Still, he would barter as much as possible out of his situation...even if only time.</span>
</p><p class="western">
  <span>The Knight sighed, just like a professional who had to teach others how to play Trebbin. He let his arms sink and William was sure only his young age prevented the Knight from just sounding the attack for the question.</span>
</p><p class="western">
  <span>"They will...survive." The knight said impatiently. "You got three seconds."</span>
</p><p class="western">
  <span>Not enough.</span>
</p><p class="western">
  <span>"Three."</span>
</p><p class="western">
  <span>Dylas couldn't possibly be there on time.</span>
</p><p class="western">
  <span>"Two."</span>
</p><p class="western">
  <span>It will all be over until they arrive.</span>
</p><p class="western">
  <span>"One."</span>
</p><p class="western">
  <span>There's no chance.</span>
</p><p class="western">
  <span>William handed the Sword over to the Knight. After he glanced over the blade he looked back at William and whispered. "I'm sorry."</span>
</p><p class="western">
  <span>With eyes closed, William waited for the final blow. He counted the seconds. One, two, three, four, five... The blow didn't happen, but another thing did. Someone sounded a bugle. In surprise William opened his eyes, to find the enemy Soldiers surprised expressions as two riders dashed into their formation riding them down. Even their commander was surprised. The grip around William's sword grew loose.</span>
</p><p class="western">
  <span>That was his chance.</span>
</p><p class="western">
  <span>The black armour sounded like a gong as William's shoulder hit against it. With a rapid movement he pulled his sword free, but he didn't intend on using it...not yet. They had no chance in the open field not even with those riders. What to do?</span>
</p><p class="western">
  <span>In his desperation, William shouted the first order that came to his mind. "Retreat! Hide in the forest!"</span>
</p><p class="western">
  <span>Without looking for the other he turned around and ran. After the first few steps, he started zigzagging to evade crossbow bolts. The sound of them made his feet swifter, with each of them hitting a tree his mind turned clearer and the sound of them hitting flesh gave him one more reason to fight. As he passed the first trees, he calmed enough to look back.</span>
</p><p class="western">
  <span>The two riders were clearly Dylas' men. They were brothers or so William guessed, it was most likely that they were supposed to ride with William into battle, but he never bothered learning their names. </span>
</p><p class="western">
  <span>After them saving his life and preserving his men's freedom, he felt plenty bad about that. That is...for the few fragments of a second he had for feeling bad. With soldiers were scattered throughout the woods...the BURNING woods, things looked pretty grim. It wasn't all bad though...aside from the burning part that is. Burning was always bad, first thing Dylas told him. Trees hindered a direct line of sight and enabled ambushes, though. And ambushing was the plan from the beginning...right?</span>
</p><p class="western">
  <span>Once a few more leaping steps deeper inside the wood William jumped behind a tree and listened for the soldiers. First, he heard the angry shouts of the enemy's soldiers and the clanking of armour as they started to give a chase. The leader shouted angry commands but it seemed he was already too late as the running and shouting didn't stop. Instead, he sends the rest of the army into Will's obvious ambush.</span>
</p><p class="western">
  <span>A new arrow shower William began, most likely to keep the Will's man holed up behind cover. No one was hid, though, the rest hid well it seemed. Some enemy soldiers were dispatched by arrows that seemed to come from nowhere however. It seemed Oren had taken command while William could merely run.</span>
</p><p class="western">
  <span>As the Soldiers in wild confusion stormed to the source of the arrows no one seemed to have seen William sneaking from cover to cover. In relief, he sank against the tree and exhaled. Never before has he been so close to death and frankly he was not entirely sure that his pants were still clean. He could probably stay there until the fight was over, after all, what difference would one fighter make?</span>
</p><p class="western">
  <span>Wait...didn't Dylas tell him something about that? Will whispered slowly as he tried to remember the lesson.</span>
</p><p class="western">
  <span>"One Fighter especially a knight is able to change the tide of a battle by his mere presence. If his heart is strong, it's will echo throughout the battlefield strengthening all the hearts that follow it's rhythm." </span>
</p><p class="western">
  <span>Curses. Why did his memory have to work so well?</span>
</p><p class="western">
  <span>He didn't want to die, but...he wanted to do the right thing.</span>
</p><p class="western">
  <span>For the time it took to take two deep breaths William hesitated. Cursing himself, he then darted out of hiding, weapon ready to strike. Neither did William have the time to realize, who he was attacking, nor the victim, that he was attacked. As a result, there wasn't even so much as a cry, when William's sword drove through the leather armour, back and in the end the heart. </span>
</p><p class="western">
  <span>Will did his best not to look at it, as he kicked the lifeless corpse away from his sword. The power he used to pull out the sword free send him spinning around. He used the momentum for a powerful swing. </span>
</p><p class="western">
  <span>A soldier turned around to block, but surprise and momentum won. The poor man's sword spun off his hand and cut into the soft forest soil.</span>
</p><p class="western">
  <span>For a moment Williams gaze wandered from the sword to his foe's face. </span>
</p><p class="western">
  <span>He really was just a few years older than William and his shabby armour barely fitted him. Trembling, the boy looked at William's and staggered a step back. William hesitated, he couldn't attack. </span>
</p><p class="western">
  <span>It was easy to kill as long as there was no face, but...killing a boy who probably had family? That was harder. What's more, William remembered the enemy he already killed. Did he have a family? How old was he? This was wrong.</span>
</p><p class="western">
  <span>The final reason Will couldn't deal the finishing blow wasn't his conscience, though, it was a shadow in the corner of Will's sight. Pure instinct made William raise his sword for defence and saved his life, but it couldn't save him from losing his balance and staggering back. The blow was hard, numbing William's hand and causing the sword in his hands to vibrate.</span>
</p><p class="western">
  <span>It was no surprise to William to see the black demon-shaped helmet when turning to his attacker. It seemed fitting...like in the tales William used to read whenever in his little free time.</span>
</p><p class="western">
  <span>It was strange. William used to dream of becoming one of those great heroes and fighting in such a situation, but all he could think about now was how many of these stories were tragedies. A burning forest wasn't a fitting background for a glorious victory either.</span>
</p><p class="western">
  <span>As his owner's black sword thrust forward again, the demon helmet seemed to grin at Will. It was so fast that the Squire was just barely able to deflect it. The black metal shot past William. He felt something running down his neck. Blood? A quick jump backwards later, William realized just how sharp this weapon must have been. He didn't feel the cut and even now only the trail of blood on his skin made William realize his ear was graced.</span>
</p><p class="western">
  <span>"You got potential. It'd be a pity to kill you", the voice behind the black helmet said earnestly, "Maybe you want to run off? I might let you."</span>
</p><p class="western">
  <span>Clenching his teeth William swung his weapon forward. He knew the offer was his only chance, but he'd not flee like a craven coward. It surprised William himself, after all just minutes ago William considered running. Something inside him just couldn't give up. Was it rage?</span>
</p><p class="western">
  <span>While one shouldn't give in to his anger while fighting, rage wasn't exactly useless. So William nursed his anger. He needed more power than he had and anger could strengthen his strikes.</span>
</p><p class="western"> </p><p class="western">
  <span>Furiously William's sword danced towards the grinning demon face...no dance wasn't the right word. Dance implicates control, Williams attacks were disconnected, savage strikes, but fast and hard for William's standards. </span>
</p><p class="western">
  <span>The fact that those strikes used all the power of William's body just made it all the more infuriating to see all attacks blocked with ease. At least William wasn't in the defence anymore; it gave him more room to breathe.</span>
</p><p class="western">
  <span>"Such fire...but it's over now." </span>
</p><p class="western">
  <span>There was but a small additional movement in the black knight's block, but it was enough to redirect Williams blow and open a hole for a heavy hit of the hilt of the black sword into William's stomach. Will dropped like a wet sack. </span>
</p><p class="western">
  <span>"Those riders fled...they won't save you a second time", his enemy explained.</span>
</p><p class="western">
  <span>Again the black blade moved. In an elegant swing, it aimed at Will's neck. It was too fast to evade but William could barely move anyways. Something grey flashed into the Squires vision and William saw the swing altering lightly, but enough to miss. A strand of his hair and a knife landed on the ground. </span>
</p><p class="western">
  <span>"Oh...come on you can't be serious. Another guardian?"</span>
</p><p class="western">
  <span>If William had the breath he most likely would have let loose a burst of maniacal laughter. It was a strange feeling. If not for chance he would be dead by now. But he wasn't. Someone saved him...Oren, maybe? No, while the boy could only sneak a pain blurred look to the feet of the person striding past him, he could hear the clanking of armour and the way that person walked was too...gracious.</span>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0003"><h2>3. Tarn</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p class="western">
  <span>After all that happened, the gates of Tarn offered no Solace to the squire...no...the boy. Without a knight, he could barely call himself a squire anymore, could he? Didn't matter. The only thing that mattered to William still at this point was that he wanted to bury his mentor and...somehow move on...hopefully never see a battlefield again.</span>
</p><p class="western">
  <span>There was no chance it would be that easy though. William knew that before he passed the guards and was confirmed when greeted by the guard captain. The prick never looked at him before, expect when he confused Will with a servant. Most likely the messenger arrived already...they knew what happened to Dylas.</span>
</p><p class="western">
  <span>"Foot soldier, lead me to the Dylas' squire", he barked at William.</span>
</p><p class="western">
  <span>Rolling his eyes, Will informed him that the squire turned into an eight headed, demon, bee spewing hamster and flew back to his planet. This very helpful information was met with a fit of screaming and insults the like of which Will never heard before.</span>
</p><p class="western">
  <span>Eventually someone told the captain who William really was, but that didn't change the man's attitude one bit. In fact it seemed to merely give him an excuse to grab him roughly by the shoulder as he told Will:</span>
</p><p class="western">
  <span>"King wants to see you. Follow me."</span>
</p><p class="western">
  <span>William looked back at the corpse of Dylas. He didn't want to leave the body of his knight behind. It felt like failing him a second time. No...he couldn't leave him, not till everything was settled.</span>
</p><p class="western">
  <span>"I...still have matters to attend to", Will protested weakly.</span>
</p><p class="western">
  <span>The Captain reacted by giving him a shove and growling with one hand on his sword:</span>
</p><p class="western">
  <span>"Didn't ask."</span>
</p><p class="western">
  <span>Thus Will was brought before the king, the last person that he wanted to see right now. It wasn't a help that the Captain treated him like a criminal about to be send to the executioners block. Then again...what happened to a squire that lost his knight? Maybe they'd just throw him out, maybe punish him as second in command...it seemed unlikely however that Will would still be able to become a knight...after what happened he wasn't even sure he still wanted to be.</span>
</p><p class="western">
  <span>When entering the throne room, William had to close his eyes. The throne room of Niviana was designed to blind any visitor. It was completely white, with big windows right behind the king, so that anyone looking would only see a phantom, encased by light. William was told that the Magi had installed artificial light to ensure the effect worked even when it was dark, but that day it was not necessary. William barely dared to open his eyes, but he did, he didn't want to show any hint of guilt. At least it seemed a clever thing to do.</span>
</p><p class="western">
  <span>"You're returning without your Knight. Tell us what happened squire." The voice of the king was booming. For some reason William expected an old man,</span>
</p><p class="western">
  <span>William looked into the blinding light and watched the dark shape of the king. To appear calm, he tried his best to look him in the eye or at least where he supposed that the eyes where. There was hoping he didn't look at the crotch instead.</span>
</p><p class="western">
  <span>"We build a camp and fortified it near a small village, named Elmfort...i think" William coughed und tried to steady his voice. The King was intimidating. "The enemies scout seemed to spot us before we found them and so they dug themselves up in the nearby forest...Dylas...came up with a plan..."</span>
</p><p class="western">
  <span>"That doesn't interest me...how did he die?” the King asked, impatiently tapping against an armrest.</span>
</p><p class="western">
  <span>"He fought the enemy commander" William answered, before his voice started to fill with regret, "While Sir Dylas was distracted a crossbow bolt hit him, I could not rescue him in time."</span>
</p><p class="western">
  <span>"Why was Dylas in the frontlines and why were you not with him?” the King demanded to know immediately.</span>
</p><p class="western">
  <span>The question barely got through to William. Talking about all that replayed the memory of Dylas' death before Will's inner eyes. It left his voice in a stupor. His answer sounded distant, as if he was barely awake: </span>
</p><p class="western">
  <span>"Dylas told me to gather men and cut off his escape route. The enemy anticipated it and laid a trap. He came to save us."</span>
</p><p class="western">
  <span>That was a mistake. Even in Will's condition, he didn't need the kings to smile to know that those words were a giant mistake. In the long pause that followed, Will pulled his mind back together. He would need all his wits to pull himself from the hole he dug himself there.</span>
</p><p class="western">
  <span>"So...you walked into a trap. You made a mistake, which caused the death of Niviana's best General."</span>
</p><p class="western">
  <span>No sound escaped Williams gaping lips. He had no idea what could save him now. The only sound William heard was a dark cold voice humming the death march. A voice like a dropping coffin-lid. When will searched the source he merely found shadows though...he had to pull his mind together. This was a bad time to turn crazy.</span>
</p><p class="western">
  <span>"You did Niviana a great disservice", the king finally broke the silence "We will..."</span>
</p><p class="western">
  <span>"...you'll do horseshit!" Someone roared before suddenly the doors were punched open and Oren stepped through, a large sack in his hand. "The boy saved your troops and defeated the enemy; you can't blame him for Dylas' death."</span>
</p><p class="western">
  <span>"Who are you? How did you pass my guards?" William saw the shape that he identified as the King stand up, there was no doubt that he was angry. </span>
</p><p class="western">
  <span>"Who I am? I'm Oren Ulerien, Magus of the Great University. You better hear me out, if you know what's good for you", the tall man, shouted. He didn't sound like the gentle man Will thought he was anymore. This Oren sounded like he could incinerate the whole castle for one single false word.</span>
</p><p class="western">
  <span>It worked. He now had the attention of the whole room...some of that attention being weapons pointing at him, but Oren didn't seem to mind.</span>
</p><p class="western">
  <span>Do you have proof?" The king’s tone suddenly turned business-like, as if he was all of a sudden talking to someone his peer.</span>
</p><p class="western">
  <span>The big man through his sack towards the king and a dented helm with horns and a devil's mask rolled out of it, causing the King to sit down and be quiet for a moment. Then another moment. At the end it felt like he waited all eternity to pass, nursing the silence in the room. For a Moment William even feared the King would have both of them executed, just to evade reacting to this. Eventually, the king’s voice found his way back to him, though.</span>
</p><p class="western">
  <span>"Well done, squire", the King hissed through his teeth, before taking a deep breath and explaining, "However...you are still a squire without the knight. I'll have to decide what to do with you. With the war against Edan another knight might be helpful...but I won't decide before the feast. Now...if you could guide Magus Ulerien outside, I would be very pleased."</span>
</p><p class="western">
  <span>A deep bow was the only answer William managed at the moment. This was all a bit too much. Questions exploded in his head, so many that he wasn't even able to figure out which one to ask first. Thus, Will was glad that Oren didn't mysteriously disappear, before the first one just shot out of him: </span>
</p><p class="western">
  <span>"What exactly happened there just now?"</span>
</p><p class="western">
  <span>"It's a curious choice to start with this question," Oren observed casually. "I would have chosen another one. Oh well, the answer is easy: A Magus prevented your prosecution...or rather...a former Magus. They booted me from the academy after I started researching the wrong things."</span>
</p><p class="western">
  <span>"What is a Magus? Why were you exiled?" It was hard not to shout, given how confused William was. </span>
</p><p class="western">
  <span>"Oh...right, I forgot that the Magi are not exactly well known in these parts. Then again most of them would get burned for using 'dark arts'", Oren scoffed, "Magi are a title, 'wise men'...or something. There's a university in Siha. A wonderful place. You could learn about everything there. If you learned enough you can call yourself Magus. A Magus has high respect; a lot of us are advisors. As you saw even a King will hear us out. About my exile...I fear it's not the right time and place for that yet. In fact...you better keep quiet about everything you saw and heard today...you could get in trouble otherwise or even worse...I could."</span>
</p><p class="western">
  <span>William nodded. It, it seemed wise not to talk about having a wizard friend. The people around here were actually superstitious enough to burn people for just knowing witch, the fact that this particular one was a male would not change much about that.</span>
</p><p class="western">
  <span>"So...what should I do now?” Will asked, his voice a bit weaker than normal, "I'm not sure that you really saved my head, yet. Should I just wait for what is to happen now?"</span>
</p><p class="western">
  <span>Strangely enough, this question seemed unexpected to Oren. The big man needed a moment to process it before he scratched his bald head and looked back at William with an uncomfortable expression. After a few seconds of awkward silence, he finally confessed:</span>
</p><p class="western">
  <span>"You know...i really thought you'd ask what a magus did among Dylas' soldiers, first..."</span>
</p><p class="western">
  <span>This was clearly a conflict of interest since William was more interested in figuring out how to pull his neck out of the noose, but he got the hint that Oren would come to that if he indulged him. So, with a deep sigh, William obliged:</span>
</p><p class="western">
  <span>"Fine...why?"</span>
</p><p class="western">
  <span>Oren seemed more than a little pleased that he'd finally get to tell his story. Carefully Oren lifted a folded piece of paper from one of his many pockets and unfolded it into a map. William could see some circled areas on it...a few crosses, one of them circled again.</span>
</p><p class="western">
  <span>"Dylas was a friend", he explained, the smile on his face quickly vanishing as he indicated the circled cross, "He found about a ruin in the location...it might be the one i was searching for. I'll investigate it and could use someone to travel along as a safety measure. I thought, who better than the student of the man who made it possible."</span>
</p><p class="western">
  <span>This offer came just as much out of nowhere as Oren himself. On the one hand, he was never prohibited from leaving and Oren might make him some kind of apprentice if the king throws him out, on the other hand though, it still felt like he was abandoning his post if he was to follow Oren.</span>
</p><p class="western">
  <span>"I...I don't know", William mumbled, his voice rough, "Might even get me deeper in trouble."</span>
</p><p class="western">
  <span>For a moment, Oren seemed a tad disappointed, and then he smiled and gave Will a pat on his shoulder and explained in a joyful voice:</span>
</p><p class="western">
  <span>"I'll be leaving tomorrow afternoon. No need to decide until then. You can find me at the Goldspire Inn."</span>
</p><p class="western">
  <span>William nodded and bid Oren farewell as they parted.</span>
</p><p class="western">
  <span>Running back to the barracks, Will demanded to know what happened with Dylas after he had to leave. The men informed him that the guards took him away and that they had no idea where to.</span>
</p><p class="western">
  <span>"...I'm sorry, Sir", Shawn, one of the riders mumbled, "we...had other things on our minds."</span>
</p><p class="western">
  <span>Cursing under his breath, Will made his way around the castle...there were few people that could know anything and would talk to him at all: A lower ranked guard called Bolin for whom he did a few errands now and then, a steward name Reilly who Will knew as a kind man...even asked some of the kitchen staff. None of them had any clue that Dylas even died.</span>
</p><p class="western">
  <span>While that was troubling news, Will decided that he could use his time better than grieving over what happened. There'd be a funeral announced eventually and his mentor would have wanted for Will to work on improving himself.</span>
</p><p class="western">
  <span>Of course, he'd be disappointed to know that William chose the library to do so. William chose to read up on Magi, then physics, then chemistry, finally biology. Will had studied those books every now and then, but never like this...Dylas didn't allow him to spend huge amounts of time in the library...not since he read and wrote well enough the messages a commander might send to the king.</span>
</p><p class="western">
  <span>When Will finally pulled himself from the books, his eyes burned and his whole body felt heavy from exhaustion. Sun seemed to have set quite some time ago, carefully Will put his book back and dragged himself back to the barracks.</span>
</p><p class="western">
  <span>The Squires had their own room there...it was cramped and the beds were somehow worse than hay piles...but at least they weren't bothered to much by the soldiers. Seeing that those soldiers were about the only people that still had a degree of respect for will he wasn't sure that he still felt it was an advantage. Then again...he was too sleepy to really care about anything but finding the next empty bed and getting a good night's sleep.</span>
</p><p class="western">
  <span>While he did find a bed his night was filled with dark dreams of Dylas dying, the bloody, pale corpse staring at Will asking "Why?" over and over while closing his hands around Williams throat.</span>
</p><p class="western">
  <span>Awoken by Will's own scream, he looked around confused. There weren't too many squires left in Tarn, most of them set out with their knights. That, however, didn't stop those present from getting pissed off at the madman that kept screaming in the middle of the night. Well...he still was a little low on sleep, but...those guys looked like they would very much like to kill him in his sleep, so Will decided to head out earlier.</span>
</p><p class="western">
  <span>Library wasn't open yet. He spent most of the time wandering the castle untill the weaponsmaster finally started the training for the stationed squires and recruits.</span>
</p><p class="western">
  <span>They did sparring and Will had the luck to be paired with a squire called Wesley. While he didn't really have friends amongst the squires, he'd always have an enemy in this one. Wesley was older than him, two heads taller, his arms were thicker then his legs and he really enjoyed beating Will to a pulp. Still, this wouldn't even be that bad if he had at least an idea why.</span>
</p><p class="western">
  <span>There wasn't even time to assume a stance before the big young man started swinging at the boy as if his practice sword was but a club. Wesley never had any technic to his fighting style...never needed any.</span>
</p><p class="western">
  <span>For a while, William held out valiantly, deflecting his attacks rather than blocking. The problem was that those savage blows still were plenty enough to keep William in the defense. Wesley was to fast for Will to counter attack as well so he was royally fucked.</span>
</p><p class="western">
  <span>At this point, William usually could usually choose to either forfeit and make it harder for Wesley to give him a really hard hit or go on and be beaten to a pulp...Will chose the later most of the time and cursed himself for not being able to give up afterwards.</span>
</p><p class="western">
  <span>This time, Will lowered his weapon, opening himself for an attack. Of course, Wesley chose to attack with his full power but Will dashed past him just in time. Now Wesley was slightly of balance and Will in his back. He thrust the trainingsword forward, just to see it caught with Wesleys bare hand. Slowly he turned around and punched William in the face.</span>
</p><p class="western">
  <span>Losing his grip on the sword, Will tumbled back, fell. Wesley adjusted his grip and finished Will off with both blades. It hurt. He had been so close this time, but...</span>
</p><p class="western">
  <span>"You really thought you had a chance, didn't you?" Wesley asked, towering over the fallen Will, kicking him in the ribcage and walking off laughing.</span>
</p><p class="western">
  <span>Everyone was gone by the time that William found a relatively painless way to get up, not even the weaponsmaster seemed to give him a second glance. Was that really the live William wanted?</span>
</p><p class="western">
  <span>In any case...everything Will went through on the last day made him even more curious about Oren's offer than he already was. He had to seek the magus out. The only problem was, that William never left Dylas' side and had no idea where to go, thus he was stuck asking around.</span>
</p><p class="western">
  <span>First-person he asked, seemed awfully pale, with sunken-in eyes...he asked Will if he wanted to try some of his herbs. As he was backing away, someone bumped into Will, gone before he could even turn around.</span>
</p><p class="western">
  <span>Finally, he found someone that told him where to go, on the condition that he would just stop pestering everyone about it. Nobody in this whole town seemed like a nice person. On his way Will saw guards getting bribed, people menaced and it was hard not to literally stumble over a beggar.</span>
</p><p class="western">
  <span>Finally, Will made it though...Goldspire Inn sounded fancy, but all he saw was a run down, grimy Tavern. Well, nothing to be done about it. Will walked towards the entrance. When something held him back by his shirt.</span>
</p><p class="western">
  <span>Will turned around to see a girl...a bit younger than him still, but half-starved and wearing rags that barely qualified as clothes. Aside from this...her skin was a bit darker than what Will usually saw around here and hair was brown...maybe the grime made it only look that way though.</span>
</p><p class="western">
  <span>"Please", she begged in a high, yet throat, "Please...do you have anything to spare."</span>
</p><p class="western">
  <span>Looking at her, Will needed to do something. He reached for his purse...realized it was gone. Stolen. Goddamn it...did he have anything else on him? Will searched...nothing really. When he looked up to tell the girl, a big man put a gold coin in her hand and knelt to look in her eyes.</span>
</p><p class="western">
  <span>"My friend ain't exactly rich either", Oren explained, "Now, listen. That should get you to Siha, search for a man named Mitchel there...tell him Oren sent you."</span>
</p><p class="western">
  <span>"Thanks, Oren", Will said, "...let's get on that journey."</span>
</p>
  </div></div>
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